


Vertigo

by JessKo



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Broken Bones, Eye Trauma, Heavy Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 12:30:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20291488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessKo/pseuds/JessKo
Summary: The consequences of deserting the Empire were bound to catch up to Eli Vanto eventually. He just never imagined it would go like this.





	Vertigo

**Author's Note:**

> This is not going to be a pretty fic. Please do heed the warnings. There will be blood, torture, rape (not gone into a ton of detail but it happens), and a whole lot of other bad stuff.
> 
> There is some comfort and a rescue, but there are some consequences that can not be reversed...

Eli could not believe his eyes as the craft lifted into the air. Had Ronan and the ISB Agent, Dayja, really just abandoned him and the death trooper escort of Pik and Waffle on this shit hole planet? Groaning to himself, he turned to the two men. 

“We better start walking.” Waffle offered so very helpfully. Eli just grunted his agreement, taking position between the two significantly larger men. They made their way back towards their own shuttle, glares serving to be enough to carve a path in the crowds this time. 

But of course, things could not go to plan. Out of nowhere, a thin needle like object suddenly struck Waffle in the neck, giving him just a moment to make a surprised hiss before falling to the ground. Eli whipped around to find Pik in the same predicament, collapsing at his feet. Then, a strong hand clasped itself on Eli’s mouth, another wrapping around his torso and pulling him into an alley. This could not be good. 

“Relax, Vanto, it’s just me.” A familiar voice whispered in his ear. It was Dayja. 

Eli tried to speak into the hand on his mouth to ask what was going on, but all that came out was a muffled hum. The crowds infilled back, blocking any view he had of the two escorts lying on the ground. Then, he was whipped around to face the Agent. 

The look on his face was anything but reassuring. Kicking open a door, Dayja pulled them both into a dark room, tossing Eli to the floor within it and the man heard a lock slide into place before his eyes adjusted to the dim light. 

“What the hell is going on?” Eli finally was able to huff out. 

“I’ve been informed that there have been some… Breaches in security. I’m taking care of it.” 

Eli’s mind flicked back to the sight of Ronan and Dayja flying off with the shuttle. Had Ronan secretly been a double agent? Or were Waffle and Pik somehow compromised? 

“So, are we waiting here for clearance? Or back up?” Eli asked. Dayja let out a small chuff. 

“Oh Eli, you really are as naive as I was told. Falling for a Chiss, of all things. Don’t you know how dangerous they are?” 

The reality of the situation not yet dawning on Eli, he shook his head. “What? How did you…?” 

“Yularen told me to simply eliminate the traitor, and those loyal to him. But… I think there is much more we can learn.” Dayja, of all things, grinned. “More fun to be had.” 

“Thrawn? No, he’s no traitor. His loyalties lie fully with the Empire! You know this, look at his record. What he’s done!” Eli scrambled to say, scooting back and away from Dayja. 

“The Emperor has his own plans for Thrawn, Eli. But the traitor that the ISB, and that I am interested in. That’s you.” The agent said calmly, stepping closer to the unarmed man on the floor. 

Eli bit back a gasp, hardening his features. “I see.” 

Dayja exhaled through his nostrils, the corners of his mouth curling up further. “Then let me make sure you see nothing more.” 

Moving faster than light, Dayja was on top of Eli, thumbs pressing dangerously hard against his eye sockets. The smaller human trembled but remained defiant, a firm grip locking onto Dayja’s wrists, pressing back. But it was useless. Soon all he could see was red, and a guttural scream escaped his throat. 

So this is it, Eli thought, this is how he was going to die. In some random room on a backwater planet to an ISB agent who would probably never even put this mission on any sort of record. 

Just as he thought it could not get any worse, Dayja reached into his eye sockets with a second finger, literally ripping his eyes out and severing the nerve connections with a flick of his wrist. Eli felt hot blood pour out and down his cheeks, his hands scrambling to cover the opening and somehow alleviate the pain that now made up his consciousness, no amount of adrenaline able to combat it in full. 

“In the academy, they teach you many things. They teach you self defense, and strategy, but there is something only the ISB will show you.” Dayja continued, squashing the ruined white orbs in his hands and tossing them aside. “How to make someone beg for death, but keep them just at that gate. Eli Vanto, I hope you are paying attention, because today I am going to teach this lesson to you.” 

“You are a coward! And a fool! You have no idea the powers you are messing with, targeting me!” Eli spat. 

“Oh I know exactly what I am doing, Eli. You’d do well to study that fact. You’ve just begun your first lesson: to listen.” 

“I know everything I need to know.” Eli countered, shoving Dayja off of him and rolling away, crawling forward until he found himself at a wall, pressing up against it. 

Dayja rose to his feet, a shuffling sound Eli committed to memory. He would learn alright, but not the lesson that Dayja meant to teach. “That tongue is going to land you in a lot of trouble. I think we should solve this before it becomes a problem.” 

Metal against leather. The man was unsheathing something, Eli considered. He wished he could somehow melt into the wall behind him, but it was no use. The duracrete was unyielding. 

His jaw was soon gripped, unkind fingers prying open his mouth. Eli tried to bite the hand, earning him a swift kick to the groin that left his lips spread apart in the reactionary exhale. 

“This part sometimes can be… difficult, so just this once I will show you mercy.” Dayja yanked Eli’s head forward, then slammed it back, knocking his skull against the wall. Eli was unconscious instantly. Dayja found twisted pleasure in cutting out the tongue of a traitor who had spent months leaking imperial secrets to the enemy. 

Tossing the offending muscle aside, he lay Eli on his side so that he’d not choke on his own blood. As he said, he’d keep the man alive, just barely, and now was far too soon for his life to come to an end. 

His cover blown, there was no point in leaving this room, Dayja figured. And soon, he was bored waiting for Eli to come back to consciousness. He figured it had been a while, and he might as well indulge, seeing that the bleeding had finally stopped, eyes bruised and scabbed over and the crimson trickle no longer falling from Eli’s lips. 

Soon, the dusty civilian clothes the traitor wore were tossed aside, and Dayja was on his knees behind him. Draped over a chair, Eli was quite the tantalizing temptation, despite the likely true rumor that the Chiss Admiral had desecrated his body. 

Dayjay brought himself to hardness imagining a large, alien cock ruining the hole before him, loosening the traitor for the pounding he was about to receive. It was not long before he was inserting himself, the tightness welcome despite his sick fantasy. 

Eli awoke with a gagging cough, head light and throbbing from being… suspended? His body shook in rhythm with grunts behind him, and there was a familiar sensation… 

He tried to call out his lovers name, opened his eyes to see a light crimson glow, but he could do nothing but croak. His word was deep maroon and pitch black, pain centered on the back of his skull. The panting behind him did not belong to Thrawn. 

It had not been a nightmare, after all. 

And now his torturer, Dayja, was fucking him like some sort of doll. 

To add insult to injury, his initial fantasy had awakened his member, which Dayja now clutched in a warm, tight embrace. 

“Ah, awake already. Just for the best part.” 

The thick, hot shot of come that erupted into Eli made bile rise to the back of his throat. He so badly wanted to scream. 

“You see, now you can’t talk yourself into more problems, or spill any more secrets. Well, at least not verbally.” Dayja pulled out, regaining his composure while keeping a firm grip on Eli’s member. “Now you will listen.” 

* * *

Grand Admiral Thrawn idly scanned one of his many art files, a carving depicting a species’ rise from slavery to their own republic. The rest of the away mission should have come back by now, and he’d not received any further transmissions from his death troopers. This could only mean one thing- something had gone horribly wrong. Closing the art files he was perusing, he decided it was time to take additional measures. 

Quickly drafting battle plans for Commodore Faro, Thrawn alerted Admiral Ar’alani of his immediate departure. She could not stop him. 

Grabbing Assistant Director Ronan by the arm, Thrawn took him along, hoping the man would prove to at least have a memory to show the last place he saw the others before stealing a shuttle and abandoning them planetside. 

* * *

“The final lesson begins now.” Dayja droned. His amusement was at its end, the broken man before him nothing but a shell. It was a wonder, the damage that could be inflicted in merely a week. 

Even without eyes, Eli seemed to stare at him, teeth bared despite the front two missing, his nose bent at an improper angle, broken. It was pathetic, really, but Eli had lasted longer than most. 

Truly a shame, he’d hoped to make a few credits on him to the slavers. But they required properly trained candidates, and Eli was not one yet, and in this state never would be. 

Dayja forced broken fingers to grip a simple tool, a sharpened thick reed. Bam’bu, he believed the locals called this plant. It would do. 

“Death is your only escape. Pass the test, Eli, and your suffering will end.” 

Eli did not hesitate to line the pointed tip with his heart, pressing until crimson beaded on his skin, but he could go no further no matter how he pushed or twisted the reed. 

Dayja, holding firmly onto the end of the read, tsked. “You fail.” 

Kicking Eli away, probably snapping a rib or two from unrestrained force, Dayja turned his back to the traitor. “No one of your status deserves such an easy way out. I’ll leave you here for the maggots.” 

Sealing the door behind him, Dayja found his shuttle and left, contacting his superior once safely in hyperspace. 

For the first time since this ordeal began, Eli finally, truly was defeated. He tried to cry, but the thick scabs over his eyes, sealing the lids shut, would not allow this. He wanted to sob, but could only gasp for air, the gap in his teeth making a horrid whistling sound when held just the right way. 

He felt his way around the room, looking for something, anything, dragging two broken legs behind him. But all that was there were four walls and a floor. Eli dug a finger into the hole in his chest from the reed, but could not bring himself to rip his own heart out as hard as he tried. As much as he hurt, there was still some primal sense of self preservation screaming for him to stop. To live. 

But, truly, how much longer could he have? 

The scientific part of his mind said three days. That’s how much longer he could go without water, the laughable rations from Dayja just enough to string him along. At least, he thought darkly, he could not feel how dry his mouth was without a tongue. 

The first day passed like this, Eli finally submitting himself to sleep. And the second was the same, making his rounds about the perimeter of the room, feeling every inch of floor and wall space for anything new, but there was none. 

On the second night, his sleep was oddly deep after collapsing from exhaustion. So, when he was awakened by a gentle touch to his cheek, he thought it to be a dream, leaning into the soft gesture. 

Was this what it felt like to die, he thought, a warm and comforting embrace. Eli felt his body lifted from the hard ground, into stable arms. It was only when a familiar voice spoke that he considered he might still be alive. 

“He’s in pretty rough shape, but breathing. We should take him back to the ship. I don’t see your troopers anywhere around, though.” 

It couldn’t be… Was that Ronan? For the millionth time, he wished he could see. 

“Vanto is our priority now.” 

The cool, deep voice reverberated against him, somehow traveling through Eli’s mangled body, sitting in his core like a good meal. Eli opened his mouth, moaning gently. ‘I’m still alive!’ He wanted to say. Well, there was lots that he wanted to say. But the slow exhale would have to do. 

A curse in Cheunh was uttered. A word Eli recognized but did not quite know the meaning of yet. But it was a bad one, something that earned a scolding from the Admiral if it was uttered on the bridge. 

“You are safe now, Eli.” The voice whispered. 

Eli would not let himself believe it was Thrawn. He needed more. Any other false hope and he thought he may truly, finally, die. 

Reaching up with the last of his strength, Eli traced familiar lines, ignoring the pain in his hands, crushed under Dayja’s boots. He didn’t move it until he was laid down, Thrawn’s hand rose to gently hold his own after Eli was down on a cot in his shuttle. “You are safe with me...” Thrawn uttered. Eli knew the rest of that statement. Thrawn knew just as well as he that he’d be useless to the Chiss now. And it was obvious he was unwanted in the empire. Or rather, wanted buried seven feet under. 

He was only safe with Thrawn. And as much as he loved the Chiss, he was not sure this is what he meant when he said he wanted to be alone with him forever those months ago. 

Nerves kept him awake during the entire flight back to, most likely, the Chimaera, but he stayed still, pretending to sleep again. It would be easier than the alternative, Eli figured, and truly it did hurt to move any part of him. 

Hearing the ship come out of hyperspace some hours later, the next minutes were a blur. Thrawn transferred him to a medical repulsorlift and rushed to the medical wing, not answering any of Ar’alani’s questions on the way. Then, Eli felt himself lifted into a harness, already stripped of his clothing he was dunked into a bacta tank and allowed the thick gel to lull him back into sleep. 

He might have been safe, but there was only so much bacta could do, and life would never be the same. 

* * *

‘How was your day?’ Eli signed from his seat in the corner of Thrawn’s quarters. 

“Not ideal…” Thrawn began. Eli heard him slump into the chair across from him, felt his toes nudge up against his own. “The Lothal cell continues to be a pest that refuses to be squashed.” 

‘This is their home. They will fight tooth and nail to protect it.’ Eli offered. Thrawn took his hands into his own, effectively silencing him. Eli much preferred it when that required a kiss. 

In fact, they had hardly kissed since his… Encounter with ISB. He wondered if Thrawn only kept him around for sentimentality, or loyalty. They were no longer intimate with one another, this by Eli’s request. There were just too many bad memories, too much trauma… He wanted to heal first. 

But Thrawn seemed to have interpreted that as a full stop to their relationship. And any time Eli tried to discuss it further, Thrawn would do this. Still his hands and give what he was sure was a pitying look. Eli hated it. And he feared he would soon come to resent the only person who knew he survived. 

Thrawn had staged his death in the bacta tank, something Eli had no say in, and now here they were. 

“You are only safe with me.” Thrawn had argued, his voice pained, almost as if he too had been tortured. Fearing any exposure to the outside world would put Eli in danger. And seeing he was on an Imperial Star Destroyer, Eli could not argue. 

Thrawn locked his doors, but Eli would not have tried to escape regardless. 

“I know, Eli.”

Shaking his hands free, Eli signed furiously, ‘Let me help.’ 

Thrawn did not immediately reply. Eli huffed. 

“There is a piece of art that may prove to be essential. I will bring it to you.” 

‘Wait!’ Eli signed, but it was too late. Thrawn was already on his way out the door. 

A few minutes later, a wooden object was thrust into Eli’s hand, Thrawn guiding crooked fingers to hold it. 

“The cell’s leader, Hera Syndulla, is Twi’lek and this is her family’s heirloom. A Kalikori. Tell me what you feel.” 

Eli set the item down into his lap, singing first. ‘Let me speak! Then I will tell you.’ 

He heard Thrawn sit down. “Very well.” 

‘Do I disgust you?’ Eli signed bluntly, feeling pain in his chest. But he knew he had to ask. 

Thrawn hesitated to answer. “No, you do not.” 

Eli continued. ‘Does my existence offend you?’

There was no pause. “Not at all.” 

‘Then why don’t you love me anymore?’ 

“Oh, Eli. I do love you.” 

‘Why are you pushing me away.’ Eli felt his throat begin to tighten, the corners of his eye sockets begin to sting. It was a strange sensation to cry without eyes, but still possible. At least after the bacta soak that removed the hard scabs.

Thrawn took his hands into his own. Eli shook violently, freeing himself. ‘Why do you only touch me to silence me?’

“You said you wanted distance.” 

‘A bit. Not an entire galaxy between us.’ 

Eli did not know Thrawn was crying until his hand was raised to a wet cheek. “Then let us find each other again.”


End file.
